i couldn’t do it. but i tried.
i hate to waste food. so when my son didn’t eat his banana this morning, and chris brought it to me at the computer and set it down beside my mousepad, well, i figured, i’d eat the banana. i’m not much of a first thing in the morning eater – usually don’t feel a bit hungry till i actually leave the house, or noon, whichever comes first.
but the banana was already half unpeeled. it would go to waste, if i didn’t eat it. i didn’t eat it right away, i was having coffee, doing this and that, wandering around, and i look over and — the cat is sitting on the banana. well, not on it, but his butt fur is definitely touching the peel. closer inspection reveals no actual cat butt is touching the edible surfaces of the banana, but the proximity is there. the proximity cannot be denied.
i pick up the banana. i inspect it carefully for cat debris. i sniff it. the banana is perfectly good. i sit down on the couch, and take a bite of the banana. and i gag, no, more like retch, and have to spit the piece of banana into a nearby coffee cup.
there was nothing really wrong with the banana. it tasted just like a banana, nothing nasty about it. but i couldn’t do it. this makes no sense, since i’ve been known to eat food i’ve dropped, been doing it all my life, forty-one now and still alive and kicking, nothing wrong with a little floor-food, as long as it’s not hairy or anything. and certainly the cat’s butt makes frequent contact with the floor.
i don’t understand why i couldn’t eat the banana. i comforted myself with the fact that it wasn’t that wasteful not to eat the banana. but i am totally mystified by the triggering of the gag reflex in this circumstance.